


Eye of the Beholder

by NestingHedwig_aka_LinW



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Secret Snarry Swap 2019, Triad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NestingHedwig_aka_LinW/pseuds/NestingHedwig_aka_LinW
Summary: Severus teaches Harry about the old practice of "bundling."
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Millicent Bulstrode/Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 22
Kudos: 153
Collections: Secret Snarry Swap19





	Eye of the Beholder

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Secret Snarry 2019. All characters depicted herein in adult situations may safely be assumed to be over eighteen. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The story is based on characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended; no monetary gain will be made from this story. 
> 
> Prompt No. 36 from alisanne: Severus teaches Harry about the old practice of "bundling". (If you're familiar with "A Discovery of Witches" take on this, even better, although no worries if you're not.)

Starry nervously followed the Master Wardcrafter as he made his way through the narrow path created by floor-to-ceiling stacks of ‘treasures’ her mistress had amassed for decades. Starry had tried her best to keep it neat but was forbidden to dispose of any of it without prior approval. And Mistress would not give approval - not for one scrap of paper or one length of used postal twine.

But this Master Wardcrafter was also The Black of House Black and that terrified the little house-elf. Did he think the house looked this way because she was a bad house-elf? Would he demand she be given clothes?

The wizard pulled his cloak tightly against his body in an attempt to keep the wall of debris from tumbling down and burying both of them. A stack of empty gift boxes swayed when he accidently caught a protruding corner with his elbow. Holding up one leather-gloved hand, he wandlessly righted the pile.

Starry caught her breath as the man looked back at her, frightened that he would voice his disapproval, but his bright green eyes were kind. He seemed bewildered by the absurdity of the situation.

“My compliments, Starry. I don’t see one speck of dust on any of this…err…” He looked at the vast quantity of items piled in the hallway and was at a loss for words. “Is the whole house like this?”

“I try to keep a few rooms clear, Master Harry,” Starry bashfully looked up, her pale green skin darkening as she blushed in embarrassment. “But Mistress likes to see her treasures.”

“That’s what these are? Treasures?” Harry Potter-Black glanced at the many collections of expensive items and family keepsakes which Starry had obviously tried to keep in some semblance of order. Unfortunately, these massive collections were dwarfed by piles of absolute rubbish. He exhaled sharply. “I trust you’ve cast fire-dampening charms and anti-vermin wards?”

“Oh, yes, Master Harry.”

“Please tell me Miss Black does not also hoard rotting food and animals.” Harry rubbed his temples, trying to comprehend the obvious decline of the homeowner’s mental state.

“Oh, no, Master Harry. Starry watches Miss Cassie eat and takes away what she leaves behind. I keep a clean kitchen.”

“And animals?”

“Nova is the only inside kitty now. When the other cats died, Starry buried them in the garden.” Starry paused. “And Phaedra lives in her owlie house by the kitchen garden.”

While Starry couldn’t control Miss Cassie’s ‘treasures,’ she would and could put her little foot down on keeping dead things out of the house.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Cassiopeia Black perched in her overstuffed armchair, her dark eyes glittering malevolently at Harry. She did not want this wizard in her house, even if he was the de facto head of her family. The Black of House Black he may legitimately be, but he was first and foremost a Potter and a Half-Blood to boot. This annoyed the wizened witch. 

_Toujours Pur_ indeed, she thought, in disgust. How very far The Ancient and Noble House of Black had fallen in the past few decades.

Harry watched the emotions flit over Sirius’ great-great-aunt’s features and wondered how long it would take the ancient spinster to get over her snit this time. She had made it no secret to him that she felt the Black blood running through his veins was too diluted for him to be a proper heir, but as the only other option was the white peacock’s weakling of a son, Harry was, unfortunately, the best of a bad situation. Two useless wars, triggered by the overblown egos of two Half-Blood charlatans, had left the Black bloodline decimated.

Harry rested his arms on the back of an uncomfortable Victorian settee, his elaborate Wardcrafter’s robes opening to reveal the close-fitting black battle leathers beneath them. He crossed one leg, resting the knee-high dragon-hide boot across his knee.

Nine clocks in this room alone chimed the hour, and Harry could hear untold others chime throughout the house. Although Starry had done her best, and the floor was kept mostly clear, the walls were covered in portraits, landscapes and framed photographs, leaving scant slivers of wallpaper visible between them. The side tables and consoles held layers of ‘treasures’ and there were at least three chairs too many in the crowded parlor.

Across the hallway, the library was barely navigable. The floor-to-ceiling bookcases, filled to brimming, were half-buried behind years of neatly stacked back issues of _The Daily Prophet_ and other wizarding publications. The massive library tables and chairs were covered in stacks of books and other ‘keepsakes.’ The library fireplace was, thankfully, unlit. Fire-dampening charms could only do so much. With the room entombed under years of newsprint, enough sparks could easily turn the room into a blazing inferno, Harry thought.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Harry heard the numerous clocks chime the quarter hour, and determined he had better things to do with his life than play a bitter old woman’s waiting game. While others may have described Miss Black as bird-like, Harry likened her poisonous personality to a spider spinning her web. Harry’s eyes drifted over the useless accumulations overwhelming the architectural beauty of the house and decided to address the actual reason he had been summoned to this hellhole in the first place.

“The wards protecting this home have failed. Three of the original four ward stones are located beneath the crumbling fieldstone walls that border the property and their integrity has been severely compromised. In order to write new runes to anchor the wards, I will need to either move the three stones inside the existing walls, or demolish the stone corners to free them, further compromising the integrity of the deteriorating enclosure. Do you have a preference as to which solution I choose to use, Miss Black?”

The old witch glared at him.

“If you choose to do nothing, you will be in direct violation of the Statutes of Secrecy. The only reason the Mundanes have not noticed anything unusual so far are the re-direction charms linked to the ancient boundary markers which are set just beyond the walls. They are still holding and are protecting the property from view. But since the boundary markers are also powered by the ward stones, they too will fall in a matter of days.” Harry stood up. “Do I have your permission to reestablish the wards?”

“As if you need my permission,” she spat, fully aware that Harry did not actually need her consent to do anything. As Head of House Black, he held control of all Black holdings, and could do whatever he wished with them. 

It was probably a good thing that he wasn’t a “true” Black, she thought, because they were historically vindictive, and he could simply order this home demolished with her inside of it if he so wished.

“You do realize that I will need to remain within these wards while the runes repower them, don’t you?” Harry didn’t like that prospect any more than did Miss Black, but as both the Wardcrafter and the Head of House, his magic was necessary to bring the wards to their full capacity.

“How long will you be my guest?” Miss Black asked, the word ‘guest’ bitter on her tongue.

“The property is not that large, so I estimate between twelve and twenty hours.”

“So, overnight. Will you need a bed to sleep?”

“Yes. I do not need to be awake for my magic to feed it.”

“I will have Starry make up a room for you.” The old woman looked away. The sooner he started on the wards, the sooner the upstart would be out of her home.

“Before I begin, where is your Floo? I will need to temporarily close the connection while the wards rebuild.”

“There is no open Floo. The chimney for the library fireplace cracked and I never saw fit to have it repaired. I had it sealed off. There has not been a working Floo for years.” 

~*~*~*~*~*  
Severus Snape, Potions Master First Class and Steward to House Prince, contemplated the sheer volume of belongings scattered into neat piles across the top of the hotel room bed. He needed to get it all packed away before catching the first of several International Portkeys he would be taking that day. 

Why, he thought, had he never bothered to send some of it ahead?

For the past two months, Severus had been crisscrossing Eastern Europe and the Far East as a Senior Representative for the International Potions Guild. He was the keynote speaker at The International Potioneers’ Symposium held that year in Bangkok, Thailand, had chaired the 946th Annual Potions Guild Conference in Reykjavik, Iceland and held smaller meetings in various other cities. And now that he had finally completed his last task for the Guild, awarding seven Mongolian potion apprentices their first masteries, he was finally able to return home just in time for the madness of Yule.

Severus nestled three small wrapped Yule gifts inside of a ceremonial pewter cauldron he had been awarded in Bangkok and added an assortment of little trinkets he had acquired during his travels to fill the remaining space. He placed the filled cauldron inside of his bottomless travel valise beside a box containing unusual teas, herbs and spices not readily found in the British Isles, boxes containing rare and exotic potion ingredients, and several larger Yule gifts. After casting unbreakable charms upon them, Severus tucked in bottles of vodka, fruit wine, rice wine, and an ornate bottle of an unfamiliar spirit someone had presented him.

As he finished packing the last of his clothing and toiletries, a soft chime alerted Severus that he had twenty-five minutes to catch his International Portkey in the hotel lobby. He sealed and warded his travel valise, slipped on his heavy winter cloak, and left the hotel room, anxious to return to familiar surroundings.

~*~*~*~*~*  
From her parlor window Miss Black watched the Wardcrafter manipulate the crumbling fieldstone wall, freeing the final ward stone buried beneath. His movements were graceful, the short bursts of spellwork precise. There was no question he was exceptionally skilled in his field.

Long gone was the scrawny ragamuffin _The Daily Prophet_ once loved to vilify. She took in the wizard’s finely tailored attire and the traditional long hair tumbling down his back. A Pureblood had obviously taken him under their wing, teaching him what he should have learned as a child had he not been abandoned to his Mudblood mother’s magic-hating sister by that thrice-damned Dumbledore. The battle leathers beneath his Wardcrafter’s robe had also been an effective, if not at all subtle, reminder of just who he was and what he was capable of. 

Perhaps, she thought reluctantly, he had the makings of a proper Black after all.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Severus gracefully walked out his landing, quickly sidestepping through several fallen wizards and their luggage, as his final International Portkey deposited him and his fellow travelers into a room off the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic in London. He set his valise at his feet and paused to get his bearings.

Severus stifled a yawn. Three portkeys in one day had exhausted him. He was so close to being finally home but realized, as tired as he was, Apparating would be foolhardy. The risk of splinching was just too high.

Reluctantly, he crossed the crowded Atrium and purchased a handful of Floo Powder from the Floo Network Authority kiosk located beside the wall of fireplaces. It was just his luck he had arrived in the Ministry at the end of the workday so quite a few people also wanted to use the Floo. As he waited in the queue for his turn, Severus pulled up the hood of his travel cloak in an attempt to keep at least some of the dust and ash out of his face.

He tossed the Floo Powder into the flames, stepping into the fireplace as soon as the flames flashed a brilliant emerald green. Severus clearly stated his destination and felt himself pulled into the network.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Harry levitated a stack of old _Herbology Today_ quarterlies to get them out of his way. Noting the issue date on the top journal was twenty-three years earlier, he once again wondered at the state of Miss Black’s mental health. If this room was her attempt at an archive, it was one of the worst filing systems he had ever seen. It would take days or even weeks to find anything - if you found anything at all.

With Starry’s assistance, Harry had already moved the overburdened library tables from their places in front of the fireplace. Since there was no sign of breakage, he ignored Miss Black’s shrieks when a few of the precarious piles covering the tabletops tumbled. His mind drifted toward the mad little creature from J.R.R. Tolkien’s novels going on about ‘His Precious,’ and stifled a snort.

Now that a last stack of ancient _The Daily Prophets_ had been moved aside, he could finally see the entire oriental carpet covering part of the library floor. Carefully rolling the age-brittle wool rug into a loose tube, Harry revealed the hidden trapdoor concealed in the polished wide-planked oak floor. 

The metal glowed a dull red when Harry cast an _Alohomora_ on the latch, but it did not open. He hadn’t really expected it to open with such a basic spell. He dropped to his knees beside the trapdoor and cast a few more spells. Removing his thin leather gloves, Harry cut a small slice into one of his fingertips and let several drops of blood cover the latch. With a screech, the bolt of the latch slid open.

Harry opened the trapdoor, revealing the master ward stones controlling both the property wards and the battle wards. Judging from the thick cobwebs in the enclosed space, the stones had not been checked in ages. The Black battle wards, while currently dormant as the estate was not under siege, thrummed with a promise of power, but the property wards had weakened to the point of imminent failure.

Miss Black watched as Harry leaned elbow deep into the hole. She saw short flashes of color as the Master Wardcrafter strengthened and rebuilt the home defenses and then traced runes in blood over the wardstone to reawaken the Black Family Magiks. Any illusions the old witch still harbored that Harry was not worthy of being The Black of House Black crumbled as the wardstone accepted his blood sacrifice.

Harry slid the latch closed and climbed to his feet. 

“What is the matter with your hands?” Miss Black demanded. His hands were covered in a greenish-gold glow and she had never witnessed anything like it. “Has the ritual failed?”

“No. This was to be expected. When these runes turn to black, your re-warding will be complete.” Harry held out his hands, revealing that the glow was caused by fine lines of runic characters written on the inside of his fingers. 

Just as he lowered his hands to his sides, the wards dropped. Almost immediately the wards began to re-set themselves, as a ripple of magic surged through the house.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Severus disliked traveling via the Floo Network, but accepted it was a simple, if messy, way to move from one location to another. It was difficult to keep his elbows tucked in while clutching his travel valise. In the spinning rush of emerald green flames, he was vaguely aware of other grates rushing past as he hurtled toward his destination.

The green flames dimmed momentarily, and Severus felt his body jerk, his trajectory suddenly altered, sending him careening down a little-used passageway. In the dim light of the fireplace opening ahead, he could see he was aiming directly toward a wall of soot-stained brick. There was no real way to prepare for the impact. He seemed to slow down slightly, just before he hit the wall. Tucking in his head to protect it, left his shoulder and the valise to take the brunt of the force. He was sent sprawling out of the unlit hearth. He slid across a polished oak floor, his body crashing into a light-colored wall.

Disoriented, he looked up in time to see that what he thought was a wall wasn’t an actual wall as it collapsed, burying him under a cascade of newsprint.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Just before the wards slammed back into place, emerald green flames and black soot billowed out of the unlit library fireplace. Harry’s wand automatically flew to his hand as a black-clad figure and a piece of luggage suddenly shot across the floor, their trajectory halted abruptly by slamming into one of the tall stacks of old newspapers. The stack swayed back and forth several times before tipping over, covering the body under ancient issues of _The Daily Prophet_. 

Harry hurried across the floor. Judging from the size and style of the black boots, their surprise visitor was male, but nearly the entirety of his body was buried beneath the newspapers. The concealed man moaned from the depths of his paper prison.

Harry flicked his wand and every newspaper and magazine in the library promptly vanished. He had only intended to free the man from the collapsed pile, but his growing irritation over the hoarded state of the house caused him to inadvertently overpower the spell. 

Ignoring Miss Black’s shrieks of indignation at the loss of her ‘treasures’, Harry dropped beside the prone figure and gently turned him over. Harry’s jaw dropped. Beneath all the soot and ash, this was not the face of a stranger.

“Severus?”

~*~*~*~*~*  
Severus slowly sat up, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He gingerly rotated his shoulder and determined that, while it was sore and would probably bruise impressively, it had not been dislocated or broken.

He felt as if his brain was stuffed with cobwebs. He was not where he was supposed to be. Severus knew he had clearly stated the name of his destination, so why had the network deposited him here? 

He had landed in the middle of what appeared to be a family library, but the room was in shambles. The room did not look familiar, but one of the three other occupants in the room did. Harry Potter-Black was kneeling beside him, casting cleaning and diagnostic charms at him. 

Why was Harry here? And for that matter, where was here?

Harry stood up and reached down a hand to help the older man to his feet. Severus noticed the glowing runes on the younger man’s hands and clasped his forearm for leverage instead, not wanting to possibly compromise the ritual by smearing the ink. He took in Harry’s Wardcrafter robes and realized, wherever they were, Harry was there in an official capacity.

Behind Harry, a female house-elf unrolled an oriental carpet in front of the unlit fireplace. A large library table, covered in tumbling piles of miscellanea, was then levitated on top of the carpet. The little elf busied herself with straightening the disparate mess into individual piles.

An ancient witch screamed at both Harry and the house-elf about their lack of respect for her ‘treasures’ and demanded that they be immediately returned.

“Miss Black.” Harry addressed the witch, but she continued to berate him.

“Miss Black.” Harry’s voice was sharper. She paused for a breath and then renewed her tirade.

“Silence!” Harry barked, and the little elf squeaked. Miss Black fell blessedly silent.

“Thank you, Miss Black. I understand your distress at the sudden disappearance of your periodical collection, but at the moment we have an issue that is far more alarming.” The witch’s hackles were still up, but Harry ignored it. “Has it escaped your notice that an unexpected guest has just arrived through your _sealed_ Floo connection?”

~*~*~*~*~*  
Miss Black immediately brought herself under control. She was a Black and Blacks did not show emotion in front of total strangers.

“Miss Cassiopeia Black, may I introduce Severus Snape. Miss Black, of House Black, is the owner of this home. Severus is a Potions Master First Class and is Steward to House Prince. Currently he is a Senior Representative for the International Potions Guild. In the past, he was Interim Headmaster of Hogwarts, Head of Slytherin House, and was the Potions professor for more than a decade.” Harry formally introduced the pair. Although Severus outranked her and should have been addressed first, Harry decided that it would be more polite to introduce Miss Black first due to her advanced age. 

“When Severus attended Hogwarts as a student, he was a contemporary of Narcissa, Bellatrix and Regulus.”

Severus noted that Harry did not mention Andromeda or Sirius.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Harry slowly rolled his tumbler of Firewhiskey between his palms. He watched Severus’ dark eyes flicker over the old woman’s hoarded ‘treasures.’ The Potions master arched an eyebrow and Harry took a sip of the Firewhiskey to hide his smile. Severus had, fortunately, taken the news that he was trapped in the house with them for the night surprisingly well.

He assured them that since he had arrived in England a day earlier than planned, no one was expecting him, and no one would grow concerned when he did not arrive at his intended location.

“Well, we need to discuss the hippogriff in the room.” Harry looked at the others seated in the oppressive parlor. “Once the wards stabilize, we must immediately send an owl to the Floo Network Authority. Their investigators will need to determine whether the Floo malfunction that sent Severus here was a one-off caused by the failing wards, or if it is a much larger problem effecting the security of their entire network.”

“No. There will not be more strangers in my home,” Miss Black whined.

“I know you don’t want strangers in your house, but you have no choice in this matter. The Floo Network serves thousands of witches and wizards daily, most of them families with small children. If this glitch is network-wide, it could prove catastrophic. It’s a miracle Severus wasn’t killed slamming into a closed fireplace.”

“Did you ever think it’s his own fault?” she snapped. “Maybe he just didn’t speak clearly enough.” 

Severus refilled his glass. As tired as he was, he really didn’t want to get into a battle of words with the old crone.

“I very clearly stated ‘Black Gardens’ when I stepped into the Floo. Every other time I have used that phrase, I have ended up in the foyer of Black Gardens. I have traveled via Floo since I was a small child, and I have never once been pulled sideways while spinning through the network before.”

“Why were you even traveling to a Black residence?” Miss Black asked suspiciously, taking a sip of her Firewhisky-laced cup of tea. “You are no Black.”

“Black Gardens is where the scion of House Prince is currently living.” Harry answered for the other man. He wanted control of the information provided to the inhospitable witch. “Severus has been traveling internationally for the Potions Guild for over two months, and it would not have been easy or pleasant to try to bring a small child along with him. Silvanus is four years old. He much preferred to stay with Emrys, who is five.”

“Emrys? Is he scion to House Black?” Miss Black asked, hopefully. “You’ve replaced the mongrel?”

“Do not call him that again,” Harry sharply countered, biting back the urge to cut her poisonous tongue from her mouth. “Andromeda’s grandson Edward is still heir to House Black. Even if I have another child, another twenty children, Teddy will still be heir to House Black. Emrys is scion to House Potter.”

“I don’t understand. Black Gardens is not the Floo address to 12 Grimmauld Place.” While Cassiopeia Black thoroughly enjoyed her self-imposed exile, she didn’t like not being up with the latest family gossip. The Black of House Black had a child she hadn’t known anything about. What else important didn’t she know?

“No one lives at 12 Grimmauld. No one can. The house suffered catastrophic damage during the last war. Your great-great niece Bellatrix broke the Fidelius on Grimmauld and brought her Death Eater friends with her to play. They destroyed the house in an unsuccessful attempt to access the Black Library. I refuse to spend the gold necessary to repair that old monstrosity. There are plenty of other suitable properties available for any present or future Black requiring a residence.” Harry stood up to refill his glass. “Black Gardens is Alphard’s old country house.”

They carried on an uneasy conversation, waiting for Starry to summon them to a late dinner in the dining room. Harry entertained himself with the thought of trapping his Aunt Petunia in this house while also fighting back the urge to clear the piles of rubbish that surrounded them. He only hoped the dining room was not filled to the brim with litter as well. 

That would not be conducive to digestion.

~*~*~*~*~*  
The dining table did not hold towering piles of ‘treasures’ as Harry and Severus feared, but the room itself was still too crowded. The table and chairs were surrounded by a mismatched assortment of decorative folding screens which attempted to block the collection of overflowing boxes hidden behind them. Harry didn’t even want to know how many boxes there were.

Thankfully, Starry was an excellent cook. Her good food somewhat made up for the abysmal surroundings.

Their stilted conversation eased somewhat as conversation turned to the many cities Severus had recently visited. Miss Black had traveled extensively in her younger years and Iceland, of all places, had been a favorite haunt. Harry had never been to Reykjavík, so he was mildly interested as they discussed various sites to see. 

Harry and Severus enjoyed their meal, but Miss Black just picked at her plate. She kept nodding off as her age and the Firewhiskey finally caught up with her.

Starry arrived to take her drowsy mistress to her chambers and ready her for bed.

Harry and Severus breathed a sigh of relief as they worked their way through the clutter-strewn hallway and returned to the relatively spacious library. 

Harry looked down at his fingers and softly sighed, the greenish-gold glow of the runes showed little signs of fading. He wanted nothing more than to leave this hell house with Severus and go back to Black Gardens and the children.

“This house is…a bit of a tip.” Severus examined the contents of one of the overflowing bookcases. Ancient leather-bound tomes shared cramped space with old mail and photo albums. He could find no rhyme or reason to the shelf contents. A rare edition of _Moste Potente Potions_ was shoved into a cramped space with _Gadding with Ghouls_ and an old Transfiguration textbook from 1905. “This room doesn’t seem to be as cluttered as the rest.”

Harry’s manic laugh chilled him.

~*~*~*~*~*  
“Master Harry,” Starry whispered as she tugged on the hem of his cloak.

“What do you need, Starry?” Harry asked, his voice low.

“Should I be bringing back all the newspapers?”

“You know where they are?” Starry’s head bobbed up and down. “So, where did I send them?”

“They hit the wardsies, Master Harry. They are blowing all over the back gardens.”

Starry looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. As much as he wanted to tell the little elf to burn it all, Harry couldn’t just discount Miss Black’s hysteria at the loss of her ‘treasures.’

~*~*~*~*~*  
They followed Starry up a steep staircase to the upper floor. While the stair steps were clear of debris, the same could not be said for the landings and the hallways. The floating glass orbs lighting their way cast such a dull light that the narrow openings in the debris they climbed through felt almost sinister. 

“I’m sorry Master Harry.” Starry stopped before a closed door. “Miss Cassie only tells me to clean one bedroom. You have to share with Master Severus tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it, Starry.” Harry quickly assured the nervous house-elf. “Severus and I have shared close quarters a few times over the years.” 

~*~*~*~*~*  
Compared to the rest of the house, the bedroom was nearly spotless. Everything except the furniture and bedding had been removed from the room. The wooden pieces were polished to a glossy shine and the bedding was freshly laundered. Harry had no idea where Starry had managed to stash all the items she must have removed from the room, but he wanted to hug her in appreciation for her hard work.

“Thank Merlin,” Severus murmured as he set his valise on top of a bare dresser. He glanced toward his companion, who was nervously pacing. “Harry…”

“I-I don’t know what I’m going to do…but they can’t stay in this house…not when it’s like this.” He ran his hands through his long hair. “This house is a tinderbox. One stray spark and it’ll go up like a fire ball…and the worst thing is, Miss Black will refuse to leave when it happens. She’ll die in here trying to save her fucking useless treasures…”

And it went without saying that loyal Starry would also die, trying to save her Miss Cassie.

“You know as well as I that a team of determined house-elves can set this house to rights in a matter of days, Severus, but that won’t solve the problem. Miss Black is the problem. She desperately needs to be evaluated by a mind healer. She’s well over one hundred and fifty, so I don’t know if she’s senile or if she’s just a compulsive hoarder.”

“I can put feelers out to my contacts at St. Mungo’s to find you a suitable healer. There must be some sort of procedure in place to treat issues such as these.”

“Both Andromeda and Narcissa plan to visit over Yule, so I think we’ll need to call a family meeting. Perhaps they’ll have a better idea for how to handle the old bat.”

“Just as long as she doesn’t refer to Teddy as a mongrel in front of Andromeda.” Severus smirked.

“Just a heads up, she refers to little Scorpius as the peachick,” Harry replied, casually.

“Peachick?”

“As in a baby peacock…although technically he’s probably considered a peafowl by now.” Harry sat in a wing chair and began unbuckling his dragonhide boots. 

~*~*~*~*~*  
While Severus was using the loo, Harry pulled back the bed quilts and stared. There was a wooden board running the length of the mattress, dividing it in two equal parts. Scowling, he tried to remove the board and jerked back when the board shocked him.

“Ow! What the fuck?” Harry gingerly touched the board again but there was no reaction. “What the hell is the matter with this bed?”

“I’ll be damned,” Severus said, examining the bed and the board. “I’ve heard about these but never seen one before. It probably shocked you because you were trying to remove it. It’s a bundling board.”

“A what?”

“A bundling board. It was used to keep two people apart.”

“I didn’t know they used a board. I thought strangers just slept head to foot when they shared a bed at an inn.”

“It’s not used for…well, I suppose it could have been used that way, too.” Severus paused, thinking about how to explain it. 

“Historically, the term bundling refers to a courtship practice in which a couple would spend a night together in bed, fully dressed. During the night, the courting couple would talk and get to know each other. There was usually shared intimacy as well, but no penetrative sex because that could lead to unexpected pregnancy.

“There are a few different customs used with this kind of courting, depending on what culture you are from. In some places, the lovers would sit in an open room with the man on top of the bed covering and the girl underneath them. More conservative cultures utilized a bundling board. A board running through the length of the bed prevents too close a physical relationship. A variation of the board would be a bundling bag.”

“I think I’d prefer that,” Harry replied, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “It’d be a hell of a lot softer. The bed’s not that wide, so that board is going to be a pain in the arse.”

“That’s not how a bundling bag works.” Severus laughed. “First they would tie your ankles together and then sew you into a bag. If you were lucky, they would leave you the use of your arms, but usually they sewed you in up to your neck and left you like that until the next morning.”

“Marvelous. So basically, the idea is for two people to get into bed to talk all night but not have sex? With their parents’ obvious approval? How strange,” Harry scowled. From throughout the house, chimes from numerous clocks marked the hour, telling them it was getting late. “So, does this mean you’re sleeping in your clothes to honor this lunatic custom?”

“Hardly. I planned to get a nightshirt from my valise.”

“Good. I didn’t wish to offend your delicate sensibilities, but there was no way I was going to sleep fully dressed in my battle leathers.” 

Harry stood up and began to peel off his body-hugging garments. Knowing he had Severus’ attention, he stripped slowly down, no longer self-conscious about the scars that littered his body. Due to how tightly the clothing had been tailored, his thin silk undergarments came off as one with the leathers. With a grin, he crawled naked beneath the quilts.

~*~*~*~*~*  
They lay back against the pillows in the soft glow of the candlelight, the board firmly between them. They had both had very long days, but they were not quite ready to fall asleep.

“So, what do you think this board will let us do?” Harry asked. He reached over the board, weaving his fingers with Severus’ fingers. He pulled their clasped hands to his side of the bed and placed a soft kiss on the inside of the other man’s wrist. There was no shock. “We can do this.”

Severus pulled Harry so that they were on their sides facing one another. He reached over, his fingers gently tracing the line of the other man’s jaw, running a finger across the other man’s lips. “And we can do this.”

Severus’ fingers cradled the back of Harry’s head. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to firm lips. Harry smiled and returned the kiss. There was no shock.

“Isn’t conversation the point of bundling?”(1) Harry asked, a smile playing at his lips. He pressed their lips together, harder this time.

“Wouldn’t it depend who you asked?”(1)

The kisses turned demanding, heated, passionate. Their teeth and tongues met. Severus drew back just enough to lightly nip on Harry’s lower lip before kissing his way along Harry’s throat. He wanted to feel the length of Harry’s body against his, but the damn board was in the way. He mentally cursed the old spinster and her antiquated morals.

“This isn’t working,” Harry whispered. “Let me try something else. Budge over.”

Harry climbed over the bundling board, wincing as his inner thigh made contact with the top edge of the board, and it shocked him. “Oh, fuck. I guess it’s telling me we can’t do this.”

“As if you’ve ever followed the rules,” Severus laughed, stretching out next to the younger man, enjoying the feel of warm flesh against his skin. It felt wonderful, but it still wasn’t enough. 

Rolling on to his back, Severus tugged Harry on top. Harry’s knees slid to either side of Severus’ body, straddling his hips, their hardening cocks pressed together. Since their bodies made no contact with the side of the bundling board, its likely objections were kept silent.

Harry’s still-glowing fingers fluttered against Severus’ overwarm skin, tracing the lines of his face, across his throat and down his chest and hips. The Potions master’s hands moved down Harry’s back, firmly cupping his arse cheeks. They slowly began to rock together, establishing a steady rhythm. Harry’s fingers slid over Severus’ shoulders for leverage as they moved together, rocking and grinding. All too soon, they reached completion. 

Severus cried out as he came, hot semen splattered between them. Harry’s release followed moments later. Breathing heavily, Harry collapsed onto Severus’ chest.

~*~*~*~*~*  
“Well, this was a pleasant way to spend a long winter’s night,” Severus commented as they lay in the bed, heads on their own pillows, the bundling board firmly between them. “Should we try to look innocent in the morning?”(1)

Harry chuckled. The cacophony of clocks chimed the quarter of the hour, warning them of how soon morning would actually arrive. With a wave, he extinguished all but one of the flickering lights, plunging the room into near darkness.

“I missed you.” Harry spoke quietly. “We all missed you. Two months was too long to be away from us.”

“I’m thinking of resigning my position as Senior Representative and returning to Member status. The travel is becoming too much. All my research projects are falling by the wayside and I feel as if I am missing out on the boys growing up.”

“We can talk more about that when we get home,” Harry yawned. “It’d be nice to have your direct involvement in a few pressing family matters.” 

“Oh?” Severus opened his eyes. “Problems?”

“Millie’s getting broody again.” 

“Oh, hell. What brought that on?”

“Her brother’s wife had her baby last week. Another girl.”

“Still no Bulstrode heir then…what’s that …three girls? Tell me her brother’s not suggesting…”

“I don’t think so. At least I hope not.” Harry yawned again. “I think she just misses the whole nurturing thing.”

“We already have three boys running around the estate. How much more nurturing does she require?”

“Teddy is going to Hogwarts in the fall and Silvanus and Emrys have started attending play circles, so Millie thinks they don’t need her anymore.”

“And if we do manage to produce the Bulstrode heir, so much the better,” Severus sighed. His Slytherin mind immediately cataloged the political advantages another male child would provide. He knew full well Millie’s brain had already gone there.

Harry laughed and snuggled into his covers. They could easily love and afford to raise as many babies as Millie wanted and it wouldn’t matter to Harry if they were heir material or not. 

“Do you suppose Millicent would settle for a puppy?” Severus asked, pensively.

Harry rolled to his side. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Millie when Severus made _that_ suggestion.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Curled up in her little nest in the corner of her spotless kitchen, Starry’s eyes opened. Her magic felt stronger than it had for years. She wondered how much of her own magic had been leached over the years to stabilize the weakening wards. The drain had been so subtle that she’d thought age was finally catching up to her.

Even though it was hours before dawn, she felt energized. After putting on a clean tea towel, Starry was more than ready to start her chores. But first, she needed to check on Miss Cassie, their house guests and, most important, the state of the wards.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Starry listened at the bedroom door. From the deep breathing and gentle snores, she could tell that both wizards were still asleep. Disillusioning herself, the house-elf silently popped into the room. Although it was dark, she could still see clearly with her large bulbous eyes.

It was strange, she thought, that with his magnificent nose, the snores should have come from Master Severus, but that wasn’t the case. The soft snoring actually came from his companion.

Master Harry lay on his back, with one arm tucked behind his head and the other resting on his stomach. From a distance, his fingers no longer appeared to glow, but she needed to make certain that a faint light did not remain. Creeping closer to the bed, Starry could see the space between his fingers showed black lettering, so that meant that the warding ritual was complete. 

She could now send their owl out with the message Master Harry had written to the Floo Network Authority the night before. Miss Cassie’s home was not too far from London, so hopefully they would hear back soon.

As Starry was readying herself to leave, she noticed a glint on Master Harry’s left wrist. There were three thin bands of precious metal – two platinum and one gold – entwined to create a closed circle. Immediately she recognized it as a bonding bracelet. 

Thinking back on the two wizards’ lack of concern about having to share a bed, Starry checked Master Severus’ wrist and found a matching bracelet. 

Goodness, she thought, Mistress must not have known about the bonding when she demanded the placement of the magically enhanced bundling board. There was no need to preserve chastity between bonded mates and it wasn’t as if two wizards could physically create a baby on their own anyway. Magic could do many things, but magic could not impregnate a wizard.

Starry dearly hoped Miss Cassie understood a witch was essential to make babies. Even though her mistress had never married, surely her mother had explained to her about the birds and the bees.

Master Harry had a five-year-old heir, and Master Severus’ heir was four, so the two platinum strands and the single gold strand indicated they were in a triad composed of two wizards and a witch. With only one day until Yule, they both must be anxious to return to Black Gardens, their sons, and their beloved gold band.

With a snap of her fingers, the unnecessary bundling board disappeared. Starry popped out of the room to begin her day. She had decades of periodicals to deal with.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Using a borrowed umbrella to deflect a cold winter drizzle, Harry walked the perimeter of Miss Black’s property to check the strength of the wards just as dawn broke over the horizon. 

Wearing a thick black jumper and grey woolen trousers beneath his Wardcrafter’s robes, Harry was happy for the extra layer of warmth they provided. He had been relieved to find a change of clothing in his bottomless mokeskin pouch earlier that morning. He had not been looking forward to shimmying back into the skintight leathers, no matter what message they gave.

The mist grew thicker as he headed toward the final warding stone located behind the kitchen gardens. An unfamiliar shape loomed just beyond the far edge of the dormant garden. The odd shape morphed into a canvas tent that Harry knew had not been there the day before. Harry drew his wand and carefully approached it.

 _“Homenum Revelio.”_ Harry incantated the charm used to reveal a nearby human presence, but no one was there. He pulled back the tent flap, recast the revealing charm as well as others used to detect creatures and animagi, but he appeared to be alone.

Cautiously, Harry entered the tent, and then let out a laugh. Wizard-space had been used to expand the interior of the wizard-made tent so that it was many times larger than the exterior footprint, and that expanded space was filled to near capacity with decades’ worth of _The Daily Prophet._ Beyond the stacks of newsprint, he could see that there were several other rooms. Not wanting to bother climbing over the piles, he just assumed that the annuals and periodicals were being stored within those spaces.

Well, Harry thought, at least this ‘treasure’ was out of the house.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Harry’s childlike love of pure magic was reinforced as he stood at the door to the library and watched Starry at work. At some point she had removed every single item stored on the overflowing bookshelves and had them strewn over the floor. Dusting rags danced over the bare shelving, removing every last dustbunny and cobweb.

The house-elf sang a little tune under her breath as the books rose from the floor and began reshelving themselves alphabetically by author name and by subject. Harry watched as the books began to fill each shelf in vertical precision – Alchemy, Astronomy, Charms, Creatures, Dark Arts, Defense Against the Dark Arts – and so on. The Dark Arts and Defense books took up nearly an entire bookcase, as did Potions and Herbology. Harry ducked as a thick Transfiguration book flew over his head from somewhere down the hallway.

With the books neatly sorted, Starry turned her attention to all the other items on the floor. The deep drawers of a writing desk slid open and a flurry of correspondence flew into the drawers for safekeeping. Harry assumed that the desk had now become a huge miscellaneous bin that would need Miss Black’s attention to sort properly, not that the witch seemed capable of doing so.

Finally, all that was left to deal with were the decorative items lined up on top of the library tables. Starry had managed to find a few open spaces on the very top of the bookcases to house a few of the family heirlooms, and the framed photographs were arranged atop the fireplace mantel, but the majority of the ‘treasures’ were still looking for a permanent home.

Harry stepped into the library, complimenting the little elf on all her hard work. As he looked over the contents of the shelves, he was disheartened to discover that he had been incorrect about the fate of the periodicals. Sadly, they were not in the tent. The bottom half of one of the bookcases held the complete collections of various periodicals, standing vertically according to printing date. Twenty-nine years of _Herbology Today_ had pride of place beside twenty-nine years’ worth of _The Potioneer’s Almanac_ and dozens of old copies of _The Stars Above,_ a publication with no newer editions, so it must no longer be in print.

“Did you plan to bring back all the old newspapers, too?” Harry finally asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Starry doesn’t want to, but if Miss Cassie finds them, Starry has to.” 

“Where is Miss Black?”

“Mistress is still abed.”

“You do realize that she is not well, don’t you?” Harry asked, gently. “Filling her house with rubbish is not a sign of a healthy mind.”

Starry’s ears drooped as she slowly nodded.

“Have you been with Miss Black long?”

“Starry was born here. Starry has never left Miss Cassie.”

‘Has she always been a collector?”

“Mistress liked to travel when she was younger, so she often brought back a few trinkets, but she hasn’t traveled for many years.” Starry dusted a chair that didn’t need dusting. “Miss Cassie got sad and stopped leaving the house much anymore.”

“Do you know why she was unhappy?” Harry looked out the library windows and saw that the fog was lifting. He couldn’t see the tent from this vantage point so, hopefully, the newspapers could remain hidden, at least for a little while longer. “Something happened twenty-nine years ago, something that triggered her hoarding.”

“The sadness began before then, Master Harry. Miss Cassie’s brothers and sisters died. Miss Cassie’s cousins died. Miss Cassie’s friends died. Miss Cassie’s nieces and nephews died and then her great-nieces and great-nephews died. Lord Thingy came and even more died. Miss Cassie felt more and more alone.”

“What happened twenty-nine years ago? What triggered this depression?”

“Master Regulus disappeared.”

Harry closed his eyes and shuddered, remembering Regulus’ fate.

“Master Regulus was Miss Cassie’s last hope for the future of the Black family. When he was declared dead, she lost what little hope she had left.” Starry collected her dusting rags and left the library.

~*~*~*~*~*  
“Hello. Hello,” called a male voice. “Is anyone there?”

Starry looked up from straightening up the hallway. There was no one there.

“Hello,” the voice called again.

“Who is calling?” Starry asked, tentatively. “Where are you?”

“This is Robert MacIntosh from the Floo Network Authority. I need to speak with your master or mistress about the owl we just received.”

“Where are you?” Starry asked again. She still couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from.

“Oh, sorry. I’m calling from the fireplace. I’ve overridden your security protocols.”

~*~*~*~*~*  
Harry knelt in front of the library fireplace and addressed the bodiless Robert MacIntosh.

“You had questions about the owl I sent, Mr. MacIntosh?”

“Yes. First off, we at the Floo Network Authority want to thank you for contacting us with your concerns.” MacIntosh paused. “Do you think you could light a fire in your fireplace? It would make communication much easier if I could just step through.”

“I am sorry, but I can’t do that. As I stated in my letter, this fireplace is not currently useable. It was removed from the Floo Network because there is a large crack in the chimney, and I have no desire to start a chimney fire. To be honest, I’m not certain how we are able to speak with one another on a closed Floo.”

“As I told your house-elf, I’ve overridden your security protocols and temporarily unsealed the connection.”

“Can you tell me what happened last evening? Was this a network-wide glitch or an isolated incident?”. 

“Unfortunately, it was a network-wide phenomenon. As far as we can determine, the Muggles detonated a rather large building near the Ministry of Magic last evening and the impact of the explosion and subsequent structure collapse sent seismic ripples throughout the area, impacting Floo Network traffic.” MacIntosh sounded exhausted. 

“There were travelers misdirected all along the line. The Floo Network Authority spent all night trying to account for each and every misallocated passenger. Until we received your owl, we had managed to locate all but one. Thank you for providing us with the name of our final missing traveler.” MacIntosh paused. “A Mr. Snape.”

“Yes, Severus Snape. Do you have any idea how it was possible for him to hurtle through a sealed off fireplace three counties from his intended destination? I am surprised he wasn’t killed slamming into that brick wall.”

“Was he badly injured?” MacIntosh sounded alarmed. “We have no record of him going to St. Mungo’s for treatment.”

“Severus is a Potions Master First Class, so he was able to medicate himself.”

“Oh, no-no-no! That just won’t do. He needs to report to Healer Stephen Cornfoot in the Spell Damage Ward of St. Mungo’s to get a proper medical evaluation. He may have accidently inhaled the Floo Powder and that can be toxic.” He paused to get control of himself. “Do you know where Mr. Snape is? Is he, perchance, still with you?”

“Severus is currently asleep in one of the guest rooms. He did suffer a rather traumatic experience last evening.”

“Do you happen to know his initial destination? We are trying to see if there is any common denominator in the misdirects.”

“He was heading to Black Gardens. This address is also a Black Family property. Would that be the type of information you are looking for?”

“Possibly. Let me check the files.” Harry could hear MacIntosh crinkling some papers. “Ah, this might be it. The house Cassiopeia Black resides in was once a dower house attached to a much larger estate. Over the centuries the estate changed ownership and was subdivided until it finally disappeared from Wizarding hands altogether, leaving only the former dower house and its property. When the Blacks took ownership of the house, they registered it with the Floo Authority under its street address – 7 Raven’s Wing Lane. Let me see…Ah, here it is… When the dower house was still part of the larger estate, it had a different Floo address. The previous registered name for Miss Black’s house was The Garden House. So, that’s that.”

“You’re telling me the Floo Network locked on the word _Garden_? So, what? Severus was sent to the very first _Garden_ the network located? That’s both dangerous and asinine. He could have ended up anywhere.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” MacIntosh muttered. “A Molly Weasley of The Burrow in Ottery St. Catchpole had the three youngest Burroughs children suddenly appear in her kitchen last night. The rest of the Burroughs family arrived at their proper destination. Mrs. Weasley is a grandmother, so the children found a safe haven, but you can imagine the panic that it caused.”

“And did everyone find that safe haven?” Harry asked, an edge of sharpness to his tone. “I can’t even begin to imagine what could have happened to Miss Black if I hadn’t been paying her a visit when a stranger shot through her fireplace. While Severus is a friend to the family and never would have hurt her, you can’t guarantee someone else wouldn’t have taken advantage of an elderly woman living alone.”

“And we at the Floo Network Authority can only apologize to you and your family for the inconvenience it caused. We are still trying to determine why the network seal broke in the first place.”

“I am uncertain if this has any bearing to the broken seal, but I was in the process of fine-tuning the old boundary wards for Miss Black when we felt a ripple of magic surge through the house. A moment later, Severus shot through the fireplace and the wards slammed back into place. Could that ripple have weakened the seal enough for him to pass through it?”

“The ripple you felt may have actually been the same surge that damaged the network. It’s possible it weakened the seal. It certainly bears further investigation.” MacIntosh paused. “Tripped your battle wards, did it? I hear those can be rather nasty.”

Battle wards? What the hell was the man talking about? Harry’s knees were going numb and he felt no reason to correct the man. 

“Do you have any further questions, Mr. MacIntosh?”

“No, not at this time.” 

“Please direct any further issues directly to my attention at Black Gardens. There is no reason to cause Miss Black any further inconvenience on this matter. If we are done, please reseal the Floo connection to this fireplace.”

“I will have it sealed the minute we end this call. It goes without saying, the old dear needs to get her chimney repaired.” MacIntosh said pretentiously. “My records show it was damaged seventeen years ago.”

“And I discovered the damage only yesterday. I will certainly have someone sort it out after the Yule holidays,” Harry replied briskly.

“Don’t forget to have Mr. Snape get checked out at St. Mungo’s.”

“I will let him know the minute he wakes up.”

“Thank you once again for sharing your concerns with us. We at the Floo Network Authority wish you and yours a very happy Yule season. Good day to you, sir.” 

~*~*~*~*~*  
“What a twit,” Harry muttered derisively, and he pushed up off the floor into a standing position. He jumped when he heard a snort behind him.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Severus leaned in and gave Harry a kiss. “The _old dear_ is now awake. Starry is in the process of preparing breakfast and has requested we join her mistress in the dining room.” 

“I’d love to see her reaction to being addressed as an ‘old dear’ by someone she considers an inferior. She’d easily tear MacIntosh a new one.”

“Indeed.”

“I didn’t hear you come in, so how much of the conversation did you hear?”

“I came in about the time you were being scolded for letting me self-medicate.”

“So, will Mr. Snape be going to St. Mungo’s to get a _proper_ medical evaluation?”

“Honestly, I never considered possible inhalation of the Floo Powder, so it might be a wise precaution. I can obtain a list of available healers for Miss Black while I am there. We should consider a healer who specializes in geriatrics first and then make decisions based upon their recommendations.”

“We must join Miss Black for breakfast now and then say our goodbyes. I have already walked the perimeter of the property and the wards are at full strength, so we can leave soon.”

Harry glanced back to the fireplace, scowled, and drew his wand.

“But before we do that…” He swished and flicked his wand, sending several Dark Grey proximity wards and nasty hexes into the fireplace opening. Severus remained silent, merely raising an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel particularly comfortable with MacIntosh and his bloody Floo Network Authority casually overriding security protocols and temporarily unsealing connections without my express written permission.” Harry gave Severus a hard look. “As far as I am concerned, the entire Floo Network has been severely compromised. I don’t want Millie and the boys using it again until we deem it’s safe.”

“You do realize Teddy is going to be furious with us for curtailing his independence.”

“And I don’t bloody care,” Harry snapped. “Anywhere he wants to go, we’ll either Apparate him there or have one of the house-elves pop him there. I’ll seal that fucking Floo myself if I have to.”

“I am in full agreement with you. We’ll need to reinforce the security protocols on our Floo when we get home and should probably caution others to do the same.” Severus paused. “So, ready for another meal with the lovely Miss Black?” 

Harry gave Severus a quick peck to his lips and then eased himself sideways down the cluttered hallway, steeling himself against probable burial beneath the unstable walls of debris.

~*~*~*~*~*  
Harry Apparated into the foyer of Black Gardens and handed off several last-minute holiday purchases to a waiting house-elf. He hung up his Wardcrafter’s robes on an empty hook beside other cloaks of varying sizes. 

He was glad to be home.

Harry heard the sound of pounding feet just before two little dark-haired missiles collided with his legs, nearly sending them all crashing to the floor.

“Daddy! Daddy!” cried Emrys, wrapping his arms tight around Harry’s thigh.

“Daddy guess what!” exclaimed Silvanus, jumping in excitement. “You’ll never guess!”

“What won’t I guess? Is it a Yule surprise?” The little boys looked at one another and then shook their heads.

“It’s more better than that.” Emrys boasted.

“Better than Yule?” Harry asked, in amusement.

“Yes! Papa’s finally home!” Silvanus shouted and proceeded to try to drag Harry down the hallway. “Papa’s home! Come see!”

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Some of this dialogue is paraphrased from Chapter 28 in _A Discovery of Witches_ \- the first book of Deborah Harkness’ trilogy. 
> 
> Please leave a comment here or at [LiveJournal](https://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3894317.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1823743.html), or [Dreamwidth](https://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/1151651.html).


End file.
